Dark and Twisty

“Everyone thinks I’ll know what to say to her. I don’t know what to say to her. Dark and twisty Meredith. I’m not dark and twisty. And if I am, it’s because I live my life under a banner of avoidance. I avoid. I’m an avoider.” – Meredith Grey, “Grey’s Anatomy”

One thing (among the many) that I appreciate about my conversations with Mini Me is that it is always open, honest and direct communication between us.  Rarely (if ever, actually) have I ever felt like she was beating around the bush, hemming and hawing or not saying what it is she really wants to say.  I can’t speak to every aspect of her life, but in all my experiences I’ve found it to be this way.  Which is why I value her opinion so much.  I know I’m going to get the truth; not some version of it.  I do have friends who consistently deliver some version of the truth to me, and when I need that I go to them.  But when I want cold, hard facts (and I mean that in the nicest, most loving way possible) and honest feedback I’ve found myself, more than once, going to Mini Me first before anyone else. 

In fact, I was right there earlier today when I felt myself becoming increasingly frustrated with the dark and twisty nature of a friend.  I’m not frustrated with the dark and twistiness of it all (hey, I get that) – mostly I’m frustrated because I’m feeling the exact opposite of dark and twisty (light and straight?).  And the fact that I feel neither dark nor twisty makes me feel like my friend is not interested in being my friend when I’m not commiserating in the dark and twistiness of it all.  Follow me?

Of course, Mini Me got a long soliloquy about it all – but here’s the main point.  I’m not feeling dark and twisty and my friend is.  And I’m feeling like a bad friend for not feeling dark and twisty.  And, I’m probably feeling bad because the last time I wasn’t dark and twisty I was told I was a bad friend.  But, as Mini Me pointed out in her response to me, “Sometimes we’re left alone with our thoughts/feelings/difficulties so that we can figure ourselves out . . . [and] it’s ok for [people] to voice when [they’re] feeling crappy but it’s really not ok to put it on anyone else to lift [them] up.”

And that’s so true, isn’t it?  At a certain point it’s not fair for us to depend on our friends to pick us up out of our dark and twisty places.  It’s fair to ask them to be there for us and to reach out to them if we need help.  But at the end of the day, only we can change how we feel about a situation.  At the end of the day it falls on us to either “fall apart or rise to the challenge of pulling [ourselves] out of this sh*t storm.”  After all, my friends didn’t get me over Voldy.  I got me over Voldy.  They helped and they were there in moments of pain or weakness or especially trying days.  But, it was my conscious effort to get over it, move past it and learn from the experience that got me to where I am.  It was my choice to wake up each morning and put one foot in front of the other.  My choice to stop crying and start living.  To get better and not bitter.  They were there, but it was me that did it. 

I guess that’s what I wish for my dark twisty friend.  That this bout of dark and twistiness will bring about a change that has not come in all the other bouts of dark and twistiness.  That there will be some sort of realization that is reached that wasn’t there six weeks, six months or six years ago.  I just want them to know that they’re better than this.

And, while I won’t indulge the dark and twistiness, I will be there whenever they’re ready to emerge on a path to something better.

Signed,
I’m Just Not There Barbie

~ by countryclubbarbie on November 16, 2009.